[iain_cbr]

I was out with an "outdoor for kids" type group at higger tor (if i remember rightly) and we were toproping some really easy route when a dude came along made entirely out of sinew who was just soloing these routes (not high, granted but he was fast) with his dog spotting him as he went along. No mat, no chalk bucket, just a little bag on his belt and some stickies. I REALLY REALLY wanted to be him. Still do, in fact!

[rich d]

Top roping fairy steps at Ilkley with venture scouts. Being really afraid of the crux move that everyone was talking about, but finding that I could lank past it, or it didn't exist.some bloke was soloing Wellington Crack in borrowed boots - thought he was well cool if a bit chubby - and I was right on both counts as it was JD.
My first real insight into bouldering came a few years later when we had a rest day just below Vignemale in the French Pyrenees. A few of us started trying to see who could get up what on some small boulders - daring each other and taking the piss - guess I've been doing that for the twenty years since.
My first not taking part climbing memory is being about 7 and having an action man with full alpine climbing outfit and finding small rocks for him to climb!

[webbo]

Family outing to Almscliff for my 9th birthday.Managed to solo 3 chockstones chimney 3 times.One day I'm hoping to achieve that standard again.

[duncan]

I don't have any pre-climbing climbing memories.  In the 70s, climbing was an unusual activity, particularly in the flatlands of rural Somerset.

I was first taken climbing by an English teacher who introduced a number of well-known Bristol activists to the sport.  He was, comfortably, the worst climber I've ever climbed with.  Diffs really were difficult for him.  He had an ideal whippet-like build but something just didn't work for him.  I spent two years labouring under the misapprehension that Severes were really, really hard and so that is all I tried (or so I thought...).  A month after moving to Sheffield I was leading stuff like Brown's Eliminate.

The only other teacher I climbed with left our school shortly after he arrived.  My Alma Mater was fairly rough but apparently he didn't find it challenging enough so went to work at some inter-city comp. in Bristol instead.  He introduced me to the delights of soloing [not a euphemism] ... in places like Uphill Quarry.  I'm guessing this isn't on the SPA sylabus.  My early soloing career culminated in this, not in any guidebook at that time so I was none the wiser.  No wonder Brown's Eliminate didn't feel too bad.     

[Johnny Brown]

We then named (favourite problems included Apples of Wrath, Urban Gorilla and 4 o’clock Deadline) and graded (on a 1-13 scale) the problems and I’d add them to a hand drawn map of Alfreton Park.

Can we get these topos online or what?

[hairich]

Le-ann here - Hair Rich wife.  My first climbing experience was in Fontainebleau on the baby slopes - had fun.  Previous to that my first climbing question to Ben Moon after a hazy Saturday Night out - was so do you climb much?

[andy_e]

Slithering up a wet Brownstones Crack in a pair of banana-like Red Chilis when I was 15- my first outdoor problem.

[tesla]

Various first climbing experiences:

1) I've got a photo of me scrambling on a boulder somewhere near Cwm Idwal where I must be about 6 or 7, but I don't have any real recollection of what we were doing there and it blurs with a thousand other memories of caravan holidays around the Lleyn / N Wales.
2) Cub scout trips to Bakewell (abseiling down some scaffolding and being petrified), and the Lakes (top roping something and being petrified). I don't think anyone really explained that it was safe, so I think I was assuming that I was one slip away from certain death at any point.
3) Various attempts at climbing with a school friend, Chris Hayes. We had a rope, harness and maybe a a few quickdraws and some other random gear borrowed from family friends. Armed with Andy Pollit's N Wales limestone guide we'd punter about aiding up the first couple of bolts on various routes, or abseil off the second tier of the elephant caves. In retrospect, I'm surprised we didn't hurt ourselves.
4) First 'proper' climbing round the Orme with Kev Jones in late 80's or early 90's. We did Connor's Folly. I can still remember clearly how excited I was by this, and walking back afterwards feeling like a 'real' rock climber. :-)

Nice topic. Thanks for starting it, although it's making me a little homesick now I think of it...

[SA Chris]

I think that the first ventures out trying to lead are the ones most likely to get yourself hurt.

I remember one of the first trips out climbing, a mate and I managed to get a photocopy of an old MCSA guidebook to one of the kloofs (gorges) in SA. We hade a harness each, some rock shoes, a single 9mm rope and about 7 hexes and a cam. after walking in (1 hour) and managing to find the right kloof we walked up and down the kloof for an hour before finding the right route. I led the first pitch and got two runners in, one of which fell out as I moved past it and the other caused so much rope drag that I had to pull the rope through before every move. My mate led the next pitch, but stopped after 10m because he thought he had found a  cave which looked a good place to belay and the next bit looked hard. So the next bit was to traverse out right from a cave to an "obvious" crack. So i traversed out to a crack, placed some gear, moved up, placed some gear and the crack petered out. so I traversed back again to the top of the cave and managed to stand on my mate's head, then shoulder,  and do a controlled jump back into the cave again. We then gave the rope a shake and the runners fell out, so no need to retrieve them. Next time went further right to an obvious crack and got to the top without much hassle. Took us an hour after to find the descent and get out gear. If we had injured ourselves it would have been days before anyone had a chance of finding us. Fun and games.

[Nibile]

one of the first memories was traversing all around my parents' house, standing on a brick ledge and trying to cover the distance between the windows by doing sideways jumps. I think I must have been 7.
first true climbing memory is still very fresh, despite being back in '93.
early march, finally my friend Andrea took me climbing at our local crag. we smartly meet at 9 am, it's freezing. he choses a slab which sits comfortably in the shade all year long.
I am given a full alpine harness, top and bottom, and a pair of One Sport, high heels, number 43,5 (I have 42,5 in street shoes), two pairs of socks.
fingers go numb after three moves. the route is an 8 meters high 4a and I can't complete it.
my friend later confessed me that the thought "he'll never come back".
next saturday I was there again.
two weeks later I had bought my Camp harness, Mythos, had sewn my own denim chalkbag and had put on my pull up bar in the garden.
from then, it all went spiraling downwards.
 

[Pebblespanker]

Scrambling around at Beacon Hill (Leicestershire) on a family day out aged somewhere between 8 and 10, for some reason I just had to try and get up them rocks ... 

Then wailing like a gurl for my Dad to come and rescue me after I got myself stuck about 6ft off the ground and was convinced I was going to die. Alterted by my shouts a nice little crowd gathered to enjoy the show/watch the accident like they do. Thankfully some kind soul stood beneath me and helped me down given the psychological trauma of the public humiliation its a miracle I ever tried the sport again, sadly the above is repeated on a regular basis even today whenever I tie on a rope ... 

[Yoof]

Being told by my dad that I had to go around the arete, shaking alot, having a bash (after much "No you're not going back down you big girl!"- I was probably 4) and falling off.
OR
Doing a V.Diff OVERHANG  I was so proud

[Hoseyb]

Climbing over the back fence of the garden aged two, only to fall head first down the other side...
Trees were next (ex Surrey boy) vivid memories of climbing 20ft silver birch saplings into the wispy bits and then leaning over until it lowered me to the ground, and also clawing my way up the bark of well girthed oak trees.
First saw climbers aged about 4 at brimham rocks (a recuring theme?) my memory says a massive skinny tower, but I'm guessing that was a toddlers eye view of turtle rock..

Buildings followed trees, I remember combined tactics being used to get a human tower up the roof of a chapel so we could ring the bell, and wandering around the flat roof of our school, three floors up.

First introduction to rock was at a youth camp in swanage. Dancing Ledges in Whillans harnesess in '87 (yes I fell off within 3 ft, yes I didn't again)

hose

[Bobling]

#1 In my back garden, age unknown.  I tied one end of a piece of string round my posterior and had the other end running over the branch of an apple tree.  I was mildly amazed that when I pulled on the right bit it hoisted me up.  I clearly remember thinking "Wow, I'm going to reach the branch!" when the inevitable happened and the piece of string snapped.  Mum calmed me down by putting me in front of Play School with Teddy so I can't have been very old at all.

#2 The Scouts Annual 198?, one of the covers was of climbers on what looked like being an impossible overhang, I used to spend hours looking at it and scaring myself silly.

#3 Scouts again, unknown location, waiting my turn for ages to top rope something or other and then not getting a chance when it started to rain.

#4 My mum passing on Julie Tullis's biography "Clouds on Both Sides", I think I was hooked from then.